


Sparks of War

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: (perhaps being centuries old has given them time to work through their issues), (which they handle surprisingly well), Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Battle, Comfort, Gods, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2018, Mythology - Freeform, Relationship Issues, Secret Relationship, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 04:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15526080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Those who worship the Uchiha gods have been at war with those who worship the Senju gods for longer than anyone human can remember, through the rage of bloody battles and the restraint of cool distrust. Things have been quiet for a time but tonight that war will once more be ignited to a furious conflagration.





	Sparks of War

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of [MadaTobi Week](http://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/): Yokai/Gods/Monsters
> 
> I rather wanted to write them as youkai for this honestly . . . that may have to be a future AU. For now, enjoy a bit of mythology I came up with from whole cloth yesterday (and finished about twenty minutes ago) which was actually rather fun to build up, even if I had to keep it short.
> 
> This also has nothing to do with the original plan I had to write for yesterday's Fake/Hidden Relationship prompt but one slipped in there along with the god-level drama. Even better!

Madara scowled as he felt the bright points of human lives that were the focus of those praying to call for him.

Children. Not all of them, but-

Madara snarled as he manifested in a pillar of flame, and he was less careful than usual to keep it from lashing out towards his own devotees. War god he may be but Madara had lines and his followers should know better than to flirt with them. The company they had cornered was made up partially of warriors, true, but there were also a dozen terrified and barely quiet children protectively drawn in towards the centre of their formation.

This was no war band.

Madara gloried in the fire of war and bloody victory, but only in the lifeblood of those who _chose_ that path. Two of the priests withdrew warily and Madara glared at the final one who dared try bring this battle to bear, exhorting the warriors who prayed to Madara on to the attack, assuring them they had his favour.

They hesitated, holding back, though they were braced for battle.

Madara favoured the bravest with a smile. It wasn’t a _nice_ smile, but the man straightened his spine and bowed his head respectfully, manner easing as he turned and spoke to his fellows, drawing them back further. Madara had always liked his fighters better than those who claimed to speak his words, the priests who attempted to summon him at _their_ whim or channel his strength.

The bold priest snapped and cursed as the warriors began to ignore him, and several of those across the too-narrow divide between the parties shifted warily, watching the slow backing down of Madara’s people. No doubt they didn’t trust the seeming retreat, and Madara could hardly blame them; their two peoples had been at war for generations.

The priest spun, another curse on his lips, and met Madara’s swirling, mesmerising eyes.

He opened his mouth then halted, twitching once and letting out a rough little strangled sound. Madara growled and pushed a little harder, his will pressing down on the priest and making him whimper, crumpling under his god’s displeasure.

Rhythmic murmurs echoed from some of the warriors across the bare earth, praying to their _own_ god, and one of Madara’s stiffened and raised his spear, probably by reflex. A child’s frightened cry split the air, then-

An eye-searing flare of brightness cleared into a moonlight-pale figure marked out by red and wearing most brilliant blue. Blood-crimson eyes swept over the humans around him, then narrowed, snapping up to focus on those arrayed in opposition. Tobirama snarled and the night air . . . _shivered_.

Madara swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of power and . . . _possibility_ , the world coming to attention as two gods stood in opposition. Heat flared in his veins and all the fires lit by humans on both sides rose higher, sparking and wild.

Tobirama lifted a hand and Madara realised abruptly that there was a river not far beyond the opposing company as it roiled angrily, rushing within its banks. The band had probably been fleeing across it when Madara’s people closed with them.

One of the children sidled close to the pale god and Tobirama’s manner softened a touch, lowering one hand to the tousled head. The child clung to his armour and looked warily across at Madara and the humans surrounding him with the fearlessness only a child possessed in the face of gods.

Madara stifled a smile at the sight and turned to face his warriors again, finding them fingering their weapons uncertainly.

“My Lord?”

Madara focused on the man, eyes whirling more slowly this time, reading him. He offered himself up freely under his god’s eyes, a loyal and devoted man. Madara. . .

Madara would soon be making open appearances walking through every one of his temples in this area, and only if he was feeling very, very merciful would they still be _standing_ afterwards. He growled quietly at what he saw in the man’s memories, what had brought the company here.

Madara had clearly not spent enough time walking these lands recently, if those who claimed to speak his words had so forgotten the laws and inclinations that bounded his favour.

A yelp of pain drew Madara from his warrior’s thoughts and he spun to see one of Tobirama’s people fall with a bloody blade in his thigh. Tobirama bared his teeth, the river raged higher, warriors raised their weapons, and battle was drawn. The children were urged back, sheltering behind their god and his warriors as they pressed forwards.

Madara rode the sudden surge of hot human blood racing, the elation and fear and anger of his own warriors, moving forward as one of his people fell, lifeblood dying the earth, to meet the wild rush of Tobirama’s power. He let his own flow through his warriors, empowering them as he felt Tobirama do the same, knowing they would fall without his strength, facing fighters buoyed by a god’s fury.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though his temper lashed at him, Madara had learned long ago it was best not to allow it free rein when roused. Not when there were yet some who should be spared. He would see to the disrespect and the slide away from his proper worship once he had calmed down enough to be sure he would only destroy those who had been responsible.

He stormed across the lands, scorching pathways as he chose until he reached the sea, the water hissing away from his feet as he strode into the surf, steam rising around him. Madara scowled, kicking moodily, then turned and paced along the beach, summoning huge bursts and whirls of flame from time to time to vent his temper, the endless ocean and the cool light of the moon equally unmoved and unharmed.

Eventually he calmed somewhat, and he turned his steps back across the mortal realms to the hidden places between where gods dwelt. He continued on with quick, light steps, approaching a forest of trees so large the humans would be staggered by them and slipping between their great trunks, threading his way on a familiar route with no need for a path.

“Madara!” Hashirama greeted, rushing towards him, and Madara fended off his best friend as best he could, pushing past.

“Not _now_ you overgrown sunflower!” Madara snapped, flapping his hands. Hashirama was unbothered, naturally - just about everything rolled off Hashi, and he’d taken Madara’s prickly heat in stride since the day they met. “I’m looking for your brother!”

“Which one?” Hashirama asked, as though that was a legitimate question. Madara spared a moment from his ongoing search to turn and just _look_ at his friend. When had he _ever_ been looking for any _other_ of Hashirama’s brothers. “Tobi is bathing! He was not in a good mood, ‘dara,” he added hurriedly, “perhaps you should-”

Madara strode off without allowing him to finish, leaving a flare of fire behind to slow Hashirama down and allow him to find his way to the open-roofed bathhouse the Senju brothers favoured undisturbed. Madara had always suspected it was Tobirama who had chosen the open design, for the moon shining down on him like the quicksilver thing of waves and starlight he was.

As the moon was, then; Madara slipped over the roof and down into the open space and found Tobirama leaning on a high stool, sponging blood off his skin, not yet stepped down into the soaking pool.

Madara opened his mouth, then closed it. He harrumphed.

“May I assist you in some way, Uchiha?” Tobirama asked, gaze sliding over to him. The cold bastard didn’t so much as twitch as he drew the sponge higher up one lean, strong arm, blood and water spilling down his pale skin.

Madara stormed over to him and of _course_ Tobirama didn’t flinch as he approached. He snatched the sponge away and threw it back into the bucket of water and Tobirama angled one brow but said nothing, lowering his empty hand.

“I- You _know_ I wouldn’t-” Madara growled, rubbing his face with both hands, his hair fluffing up wilder in his turmoil.

Cool hands, callused and strong but gentle, wrapped around his wrists and drew his own hands away from his face. Madara swallowed, looking up as Tobirama rose, coming close enough the warmth of his body could be felt even through Madara’s clothes.

Tobirama’s blood-coloured eyes swept over his face and then locked with his own. “I know.” he said simply, releasing his hold on Madara and sighing. “Foolish Uchiha,” his lips curled in an unutterably fond smile as his fingertips trailed over Madara’s knuckles, “I am unhappy, but not with you.”

Madara relaxed a little - given his own displeasure with his people, if Tobirama chose to unleash his temper upon them Madara would not only allow it to pass without interference he might add his own signature to the other god’s power - and reached for Tobirama as he moved away. His fingers brushed his lover’s side and Tobirama looked back over his shoulder with a small, twisted smile.

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it was the most Madara would get and he knew how Tobirama’s mind worked by now - he ought, after centuries. Madara stripped while Tobirama finished sponging himself clean of blood, then rinsed off swiftly and slipped into the hot pool after his lover.

He opened his arms and Tobirama hesitated, back stiff, so Madara cornered him and drew him into an embrace, closing it tight around him. Tobirama was tense but warm, leaning into Madara’s chest with a shallow, stifled sigh.

Madara rubbed his back, the water rippling around them as he cupped his hand and let it pour down over Tobirama’s skin.

“Were the children all right?” Madara asked softly, and Tobirama sighed, ducking his head a little more, his hair tickling Madara’s jaw.

“Scared, but they were all unhurt.” Tobirama confirmed, raising one hand, fingers wandering over Madara’s ribs. “What happened?” he asked, a sharp note shading his tone.

Madara growled. “I’m not sure. Perhaps I have been absent too much and they have forgotten things they should not.”

Tobirama grumbled against his collarbone. “Mortals are infuriatingly foolish.” He huffed and drew away, a scowl marring his almost delicate features.

“It always amazes me that you became one of the most called upon gods in your lands,” Madara said wryly, tugging on a short lock of silvery hair, “given how irritated you grow with the humans. Adult humans, anyway.” he added as Tobirama looked up at him. God of war, waters, wisdom, and _children_. Madara had always boggled at the array that fell to him.

Tobirama snorted, lips quirking with amusement. “It amazes me worship of you survived the early years when every manifestation was accompanied with flares of your temper - measured in flames that raged among your own people.” he sniped in counter.

Madara laughed, trailing his fingers over Tobirama’s arm and tugging him closer again.

Tobirama sighed and came, settling close. “There will be reprisals for the attack last night, even if you school your people for their misstep.” he warned.

Madara nodded; he’d already realised that. There had been an uneasy quiet between their peoples for some time now, but these were old grievances and they had danced to this rhythm many times before. “We’ll be called to match one another more in the coming months.” he observed. “If we so choose to answer.”

“It’s been a long time since the war flared so strongly.” Tobirama tilted his head, moving to stand in front of Madara, a tiny smile playing across his face. “Since you and I had an excuse to really face one another.”

Madara hummed low in his throat, eyes flaring with a lazy spin. Tobirama grinned. “It will be . . . fun.” he purred, hands coming up to curl around Tobirama’s hips. “The instigation may have been an unfortunate incident, yet. . . I’ve missed proper battles against you, my love.”

Tobirama gave a sharp-edged smile in return, his own hands sliding up Madara’s arms to rest on his shoulders. He bent close. “I look forward to it, darling.” he said wickedly, his lips nearly brushing Madara’s, meeting his eyes without fear.

Madara growled, baring his teeth, and dragged his lover down as Tobirama laughed, beginning to draw away. He let himself be caught, all whipcord muscle and contained strength as he pressed into Madara’s arms and nipped at his mouth to tempt a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hashirama is god of healing, plants and growing things, and peace, probably. Madara listed off Tobi's domains in-story - wild waters, wisdom/academia, war, protector/patron of children. Madara himself has war, fire, falcons/hunting birds, and familial devotion. (I didn't work out any of their other siblings or family in the approximately 36 hours I have had since beginning this. >.>)
> 
> I can be found sneaking around [Tumblr](http://kalira9.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SerenaMarceaux).


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